


with myself in hindsight

by Aerugonian



Series: the way of tea [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: ATLA Big Bang, ATLA Big Bang 2020, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Canonical Child Abuse, Copious amounts of tea, Found Family, Gen, Healing, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Iroh's life goal is to teach everyone to make good tea, POV Zuko (Avatar), Pre-Canon, Protective Toph Beifong, Toph Beifong and Zuko are Siblings, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko is never sent after the Avatar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27238390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerugonian/pseuds/Aerugonian
Summary: Zuko isn’t sent to capture the Avatar after his Agni Kai. Instead, his banishment is permanent. No exceptions. No opportunity to regain his honor. He’s unceremoniously dumped in the Earth Kingdom and left with nothing but a debilitating scar and an uncle who still claims he cares.An assassination attempt quickly proves that his father isn’t satisfied with just exiling him. He and Iroh decide to hide out in the remote town of Gaoling, one of the few places overlooked by the Fire Nation due to its strategic unimportance.Zuko’s pretty sure the Spirits hate him. Well, that’s fine. He hates them too.--In which Zuko gets a job in a tea shop, accidentally acquires some stolen swords, realizes his father was actually pretty horrible and meets a blind girl who’s too stubborn for her own good, not necessarily in that order.
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Iroh, Toph Beifong & Zuko
Series: the way of tea [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990294
Comments: 89
Kudos: 904
Collections: ATLA Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2020 ATLA Big Bang. Features some awesome artwork by [Leap](https://wingsdingsandpurplethings.tumblr.com/)!! Thank you so much to [Cyan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neoncity) and [Sunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnymygal) for beta-ing this; you all rock. 
> 
> The fic is complete (outside of a couple scenes I need to wrap up) so the second half will be published within a few days. 
> 
> This is really an excuse to write a fic that focuses on Zuko and Toph (and Iroh because I love him) because they didn't get their field trip in canon and that's a straight-up crime.

(Thank you to Leap for the awesome moodboard! [Check out her Tumblr post of it here](https://wingsdingsandpurplethings.tumblr.com/post/633338854989037568/this-is-my-art-for-aerugonians-fic-with-myself) <3) 

There's a certain irony in the fact that a declaration of loyalty to the people of the Fire Nation is the catalyst for Zuko's banishment from that very same nation. 

The imperial guard reads the decree aloud without an ounce of inflection. A simple statement of fact, dictated by the Fire Lord himself, declaring that Zuko is to never return home under punishment of death. No exceptions. No chance to redeem himself. Nothing he can do but lie there with the heavy stench of antiseptic permeating the air, face swathed in thick layers of bandages and the world fuzzy in his uncovered eye. The strips of fabric grate against his skin like shards of glass and the tiny corner of his burn still exposed to the air stings like a vulture-wasp. 

"You have until the end of tomorrow to remove yourself from Fire Nation territory," the guard finishes. He rolls up the scroll and takes his leave as if he'd just been reading another report on the agricultural state of an inconsequential town, not the order banishing a thirteen-year-old from everything and everyone he knows. 

Zuko swallows against the hitch in his throat and thinks it may have been better if he'd died in that Agni Kai. 

\-- 

The Fire Nation coastline has long since faded into the distance. Water stretches out as far as his one working eye can see, sparkling bright blue and calm on one of the worst days of Zuko's life. 

Homeless. Honorless. Damaged. 

Unwanted. 

Would his mother have stopped this, if she was still alive? Would she have had a say in the first place? She'd done something the night Azula told Zuko he was going to be killed. He likes to think she wouldn't have stood by and watched him get burned. 

He's not sure he wants to know what would have happened.

But it's not like Zuko didn't do something to deserve it this time around. He'd spoken out of turn and disrespected his father in front of all his advisors. He'd shown weakness during his Agni Kai. He hadn't just disrespected his father, he'd disrespected their very culture. No wonder Ozai had banished him. 

The world feels muffled and distant with his ear and eye covered with gauze. There's a constant ringing in his ear that makes it hard to concentrate. He's constantly on edge, tilting his head to check his surroundings more thoroughly. With the entire left side of his head so heavily covered, he has a blind spot he can't compensate for with his hearing.

He desperately wants to tear off the bandages. Getting proper hearing and sight back will help him figure everything out, he's sure of it. He doesn't really want to see what he looks like now, but if he just stays away from reflective surfaces - 

Yeah, right. It's a stupid train of thought to go down. It hasn't fully sunk in yet that he's been permanently disfigured, even if it's something he understands intellectually. There's no way a burn like that wouldn't leave at least a few marks behind. 

At least it'll make hiding in the Earth Kingdom easier. 

\-- 

Two weeks after their unceremonious removal from Fire Nation territory, Zuko and Iroh are given a small dinghy by the ship that carried them here and dropped off in the ocean a short distance from the Earth Nation coastline. All they have to their name is a miniscule selection of medical supplies for Zuko's burn, a couple bags of rice smuggled to them by the ship's cook and a frankly ridiculous amount of tea courtesy of Iroh. 

"I thought you told Father you were only coming along to make sure I reached the Earth Kingdom," Zuko says as he stares at the ship now sailing full-steam away from them. "Why didn't you go back with them? You're not the one that was banished." 

"Because I care about you, nephew," Iroh says. He has the nerve to look like he actually means it, which doesn't make any sense. Zuko doesn't have anything left that his uncle should care about. "Your father's decision to banish you has brought shame on our household. You shouldn't have to be alone out here." 

Zuko jolts to his feet with clenched fists. The dinghy wobbles precariously at the sudden movement, but right now he could care less if he dumps both himself and Iroh into the water. "Don't you dare accuse Father of dishonor!" he shouts. "You don't know what you're talking about. He's the _Fire Lord_ , and he doesn't make mistakes. He did the right thing!" 

Zuko expects some sort of punishment for his outburst, a blow or even just a stern reminder to hold his tongue, but it never comes. Instead Iroh sighs and picks up one of the pair of oars. He doesn't even ask for help with rowing. He has no right to look sad instead of angry, like Zuko hadn't just yelled at him and failed to address him with respect. 

"Aren't you going to say something?" he bites out, snatching up the other set of oars. He puts everything he has into it, ignoring the way partially-atrophied muscles start screaming almost immediately. 

Iroh gives him a long, assessing look. "I won't apologize for my words, Prince Zuko. It was not your place to speak out against that general, that is true. But you are still a child, and I do not believe children should be punished as harshly as you were. I simply want the best for you." 

Yeah, right. Like Iroh really means that. He's just trying to get Zuko to lower his guard, maybe trying to goad him into speaking out against his father so they can execute him for treason. There's no way Iroh would pick a worthless kid who just happens to be related to him over his own brother. 

Tough luck for them, because Zuko's on to them. He's going to prove that even in exile he's faithful to the Fire Nation and everything it stands for. He's not going to slip. 

\-- 

They spend the first month of their time in the Earth Kingdom in a busy fishing village less than a day's walk from a Fire Nation colony, where Zuko can get treatment for his burn to prevent infection. 

Most people don't seem to notice or care about their presence. With so many merchants, fishermen and the occasional suspected pirate passing through, Zuko quickly realizes that the village's residents have learned to mind their own business and not look too closely at anyone who looks like they might be trouble. 

And there's no doubt in Zuko's mind that he looks like _trouble_. Anyone with eyes would be able to see that he has Fire Nation in his blood, though Iroh's cover story of a colony hometown seems to placate anyone who might want to ask questions. 

At least he doesn't have to worry about his incompetent firebending giving them away. There's a disconnect between his mind and his qi, imbalanced in a way he doesn't know how to explain. His qi feels muted and unresponsive, like if he reached out to let it flow into flame it wouldn't bother to respond to him. It's like his very life-force is rejecting itself and twisting his mind into knots he has no idea how to untangle. 

A bone-deep ache permeates Zuko's skull. Damaged nerves send bursts of white-hot pain with the slightest tug on his scar. It hurts to eat, every movement of his jaw pulling at the edges of charred skin. 

The burn itself doesn't really hurt. He can't feel much of anything under the gauze. It's the skin around it, the parts less heavily damaged, that keep him awake at night and reminds him that it's not even close to healed yet. 

He loses a lot of weight the first couple months, and not just because of the relative scarcity of food as wanderers in the Earth Kingdom. Iroh does his best to find easy, mushy foods that require the bare minimum amount of effort to eat, but outside of watery soups and flavorless jook there aren't a lot of options. Eating becomes a chore Zuko forces himself through only when he has to. 

The first time he sees his face without the bandages, he hardly recognizes himself. He'd known all along that he'd been seriously burned, and that it would leave a scar. But theoretical knowledge is completely different from seeing it firsthand. He'd been prepared for it to be bad. Just not this bad. 

The burned side of his face is disgusting. It's a patchmark of black and deep red skin, the burn creams liberally spread on it glistening like it's still bleeding. His left eyelid - or rather, the piece of skin now serving as his eyelid - droops over a bloodshot sclera and clouded iris. 

He's hideous. 

It's not just the burn, though. His hair is gone, initially partially shaved off because of the burn (and the rest cut off as a symbol of his lost honor); it's only just starting to grow back. He looks exhausted, dark shadows bruising his unscarred eye and cheekbones prominent where baby fat used to round his face out. His stare looks aged and cynical, more like something he'd see on a veteran than a teenager. He doesn't look thirteen anymore. He looks like a traitor. 

He blinks and flinches at the sensation of rough skin sliding over his inflamed eye. He blinks again, trying to clear his vision in that eye, to be able to make out more than a change in light intensity and faint shapes. 

It doesn't help. 

His hand flies up to his face. He wants to rub his eye, to do _something,_ because this has to be just a side effect of keeping it covered for several weeks. It can't be permanent. But he can't feel his fingers against the burned skin and he can barely make out his pupil, and no amount of blinking is changing that. The cloudiness isn't going away. _It's not getting better._

Zuko stares blankly at the dingy wall of the doctor's cramped examination room as the medic declares there’s nothing they can do to fix it, that it’s unlikely the eye will ever make a full recovery. Distantly, he realizes his left ear can’t really hear anymore either. The world feels muffled and off-kilter. 

A part of himself expects to wake up the next day and everything will be back to normal, even as he knows there's no way to go back. Briefly he wonders if his father intended for this to happen, if he'd known the burn would take half of Zuko's eyesight and hearing along with it, but he can't bear to think too hard about it. If this is the punishment for his disrespect, then he'll have to accept it for what it is. To do otherwise would be treasonous, and banished or not, he's _not_ a traitor. 

\-- 

They move on from the village after an assassin attacks them in the dead of night. Zuko hadn't even fully awoken by the time it's over, a massive scorch mark left in the wall of the healer's house and a man motionless on the ground. Iroh hustles him away before he can get a close look, but the pungent metallic smell in the air tells the story clearly enough. 

"We should choose a place farther away from Fire Nation territory," Iroh decides as he hands a chipped cup of turmeric tea to Zuko. "There are a few places down south that have been mostly overlooked by the war effort because they were considered relatively worthless. We may be able to live in peace there." 

"Whatever," Zuko mutters. He stares into the drink, wrinkling his nose at the smell. He hates turmeric tea, but right now he doesn't even want to look at Iroh, much less complain about the tea-of-the-day. 

He's not an idiot. He knows his uncle's killed people before. He was a _general_ in a _war_ , of course people died. 

It's just different seeing the aftermath firsthand. 

\-- 

Iroh settles on a town called Gaoling. It's high in the mountains, centered somewhere between the Southern Air Temple, Eastern Air Temple and the mass of glaciers the Southern Water Tribe lives in. Zuko's not entirely sure the tribe still exists or if wiping out their waterbenders killed the rest of them off too, but regardless, this region isn't really of value to the Fire Nation. 

"Ba Sing Se would be the safest place from the Fire Nation," Iroh admits, one late night a few weeks into their journey. "But it's hardly been two years since I was laying siege against their walls. I doubt it will be distant enough in their minds for us to escape detection." 

And so, they travel to Gaoling. It's a miserable journey, even as Iroh's stockpiled finances ease the way. Zuko hates everything about it. He hates those ugly ostrich horses, he hates the way every town is filled with dirt and filth, and the way there are always, _always_ pebbles in his shoes no matter how often he stops to pick them out. He has blisters and callouses on his hands and feet where there used to be soft skin. His skin is tanner than it's ever been in his life and his hair is growing in as a bristly mess with a bare patch on his left side where the scar touches his hairline. His eyelashes and eyebrow only grew back on his right side, so dust is constantly finding its way into his left eye without any obstacles to stop it. 

He's pretty sure the spirits hate him. He hates them right back. 

His skin prickles as they slowly make their way through Gaoling, Iroh determined to find a more permanent residence than a hostel or outdoor campsite. There's a thousand eyes watching him wherever he goes, expressions of pity and mild disgust playing across their faces like they don't realize he can see them. 

This town isn't like the others they'd crossed through along their journey. Burns weren't uncommon in parts of the Earth Kingdom more heavily touched by the war. Up here he's an anomaly, an uncomfortable reminder to its residents that even if their town has been largely overlooked by the enemy they're still part of a nation at war. 

He hates all of them, too. He's pretty sure that at this point, it would be easier to list what he _doesn't_ hate. 

Zuko meets every one of their gazes head-on. Most look away, uncomfortable at being caught staring. Good. They _should_ be embarrassed. 

Zuko becomes Lee and Iroh becomes Mushi, nothing more than two Earth Kingdom refugees looking to escape the war. Iroh tells anyone who asks that they came from the colonies looking to escape the Fire Nation. Sometimes, if they think Zuko is out of earshot, they ask about the scar. Iroh deflects their questions gracefully but firmly, and eventually they stop asking. 

Life goes on, uncaring. 

\--

The apartment Iroh chooses to rent is tiny. Two "bedrooms" - really they're more like storage closets with futons wedged inside - and a cramped combined kitchen and living area. The entire apartment is smaller than Zuko's closet had been back home. They don't even have a private bathroom. They're expected to _share_ with the others in the apartment complex, like they're nothing more than filthy commoners like the rest of them. 

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Zuko," Iroh says as they unpack the meager possessions they brought with them. "There's a simple honor in living frugally." 

"But this isn't frugality," Zuko grouses, scowling. "Saying we're living frugally makes it sound like we're staying in a hovel like this by _choice_. I don't know why you decided to come with me, but _I_ didn't choose this." 

"But you're here anyway. It's up to you to make the most of it and decide what you're going to do with what you're given, even if it's not what you wanted or imagined for yourself." 

Zuko scoffs. "That's easy for you to say. You're not the one with a permanent lesson everyone can see burnt onto your _face_." 

Like every time the scar comes up in conversation, Iroh's expression shutters closed. He looks old. "No, I'm not. But it's a lesson I had to learn nonetheless, when Lu Ten died. You are not the only one who's suffered hardships, nephew." 

Zuko doesn't have a response for that. 

\-- 

"Guess what, Zuko?" Iroh grins, looking far too pleased with himself for whatever news he's about to drop. "I just got a job at a tea house!" 

Zuko gapes at him. He's kidding, right? "You got a job?"

"Yes."

"Serving _tea?"_

"That's right! Isn't it wonderful?" 

No, it's _not_ wonderful. This is unbelievable. "Are you out of your mind?! We're doing fine, you _said_ we're doing fine financially. You don't need to do something so... so..." 

Iroh raises an eyebrow. "We may have been doing all right, but our money isn't unlimited and most of it was used to get us here. What did you expect would happen now that we're settling down somewhere longer than a few days?" 

"That's not the point. You're a prince! You shouldn't have to lower yourself to this kind of position, _serving_ these peasants. Don't you care?" This is ridiculous. These people should be giving them whatever they want, not forcing them to demean themselves like they're nothing more than average Earth Kingdom citizens themselves. They're Fire Nation _royalty_. 

Azula would find this hilarious. She'd also make sure to point out to Zuko that this is his fault, that the only reason Iroh is in this situation is because Zuko is a horrible failure who couldn't even keep his mouth shut in a war meeting, after he _promised_ his uncle that he would. 

"I believe I'm very lucky, actually," Iroh says, like he means it. Like he's not talking about betraying his station for a life of tea and servitude. "It's a job where I'll get to do something I love all day, every day. What more could I ask for?" 

Zuko growls, disgusted. If his qi didn't feel so distant right now, he'd probably be breathing fire. "You better not be expecting me to join you." 

"Eventually you will need to consider ways to earn your own money," Iroh says, not unkindly. "But for now, no. You should focus on healing. If you would like, I could enroll you in school. It would do you well to make some friends your own age." 

"I don't need any friends!" Zuko shouts, stomping off to his room and slamming the door. It's only a five step walk and the rice-paper sliding door sort of ruins the effect of a dramatic exit, but whatever. The sentiment is there. 

\-- 

"I would love it if you stopped by today," Iroh says through Zuko's door the morning of his first day at his new job. "I can make you a free cup of tea, any kind you'd like." 

Zuko pulls his blanket more tightly around himself and doesn't answer. He glares at a crack in his wall until Iroh gives up and leaves. 

He doesn't go visit. 

\-- 

Zuko tries not to think about the 41st Division.

It's not like remembering it would make a difference. Most of those soldiers are probably long dead by now.

Sometimes Zuko wonders if he really regrets speaking out in their defense. If he would do things differently if it happened again. If he would keep his mouth shut and let them go to their deaths, just to protect himself.

He doesn't think he'd have the strength to come to their defense a second time, not now that he knows what would happen if he spoke up. He's not sure what that says about himself.

\-- 

Time passes. A month goes by, then another. 

People don't stare as much at Zuko as they used to. He keeps to himself most of the time, but they've gotten used to seeing him around and don't recoil at the sad state of his face anymore. His scar isn't the novel sight it used to be. Instead of the mysterious scarred kid who looked suspiciously like someone with Fire Nation heritage, someone to be suspicious of, he's become known as the tragic nephew of that nice elderly man who makes the best tea in town.

It helps that his hair is finally getting longer. It's still too short to pull back into a ponytail, but the strands hang into his eyes and soften the edges of his face. At the very least he looks closer to his age.

Iroh flourishes in his job at Liu Xian's Teahouse. Zuko stops in after a few weeks, slinking to a table in the corner and studiously avoiding looking at anyone else in the unexpectedly crowded room. His uncle lights up so much once he notices Zuko that he just feels worse he refused to visit until now. 

"A cup of ginseng tea, freshly brewed," Iroh says, setting down a tray with two nicely painted ceramic cups as he sits on the other side of the table. "I admit, I didn't expect you to come visit me here, though I'm so glad you did." 

Zuko shrugs, his eyes meeting Iroh’s for just a moment before he looks away again. “I figured I might as well check it out. See how things were going. Looks like this place is pretty busy.”

"Yes, it’s really picked up in business the last few weeks. You should have tasted the tea before I stepped in," Iroh confides quietly enough that other patrons wouldn't be able to overhear, then guffaws. "It was nothing more than hot leaf juice!"

"That's literally the definition of tea," Zuko says. 

"Ah, but there's so much more to a good cup of tea than just the tea leaves and water," Iroh says with way more passion than tea deserves. "You can't just drop some leaves in a pot and think your tea will come out tasting the way it should. You need to adapt your technique to the _type_ of tea you're using and its purpose. If you leave it too long, your tea will become bitter and lose some of its complexity. If you do not steep it long enough, your tea will be weak and the beneficial properties of the tea will not have the time they need to set in properly. For example, with ginseng tea it's best to-" 

"I didn't come here for another lesson on tea-making," Zuko interrupts before he gets stuck listening to a twenty-minute speech on tea. Again. 

His uncle waves off the complaint. "Yes, yes. I digress. The tea shop has been doing very well lately, you know. Liu Xian - the owner - has been thinking of expanding recently, especially now that we're getting some interest from the wealthier families in town. You should consider working here, once you're feeling up for working. Unless, of course, you've changed your mind about starting school here. I've heard very good things about the curriculum." 

"I'm pretty sure my tutors taught me everything a place like this could and more," Zuko scoffs. "There's no way I'm going to an _Earth Kingdom_ school." 

Iroh takes a sip of his tea. "I'm merely suggesting you have an open mind. It may be more fun than you think it would be, and it would be healthy for you to make some friends your age." 

"I'll think about it," Zuko lies. He's not fooling anyone, but Iroh doesn't call him out on it. 

\--

The first time Zuko tries firebending since his Agni Kai is from the safety of his bedroom. It's a room half the size of his closet back home. It doesn't occur to him that the room is completely wooden, that there's even the slightest chance he could set it on fire. He's not worried.

He's not.

The sun is at its peak. His bending should be at its most powerful right now with the full force of Agni behind him, but it feels tenuous in a way it never did before he got his scar. He reaches out to his inner fire and instead of responding to him, it shrinks away. There's barely a flicker of flame left.

And all at once his anger _surges_. It's not enough that he's banished and permanently disfigured? His father had taken _everything_ from him, even his firebending. Even all but the very worst of the Fire Nation's criminals were given time to meditate and maintain their inner flame. Had Zuko's crimes really been so horrible?

He'd just wanted to save his people.

The room's stiflingly hot. Zuko jerks back as he realizes he's burning, flames searing against his skin and shooting towards the ceiling, and suddenly he can't think at all. 

\--

Iroh stares at the scorched ceiling much more calmly than the situation deserves.

Zuko picks at a torn fingernail, studiously avoiding looking up. Now that the initial panic is gone, he's painfully aware of the heavy stench of char in the air, and of the fact that he no longer has any blankets. Either he's going to be sleeping without or Iroh will have to spend some of his hard-earned money to fix Zuko's stupidity. And that's not even considering the repair cost for the apartment itself.

"So," Iroh says. "You decided to practice some firebending."

It's not phrased like a question. "I guess."

"And you decided to do it inside the apartment to avoid being discovered." That's a better explanation than the real answer, which is that he hadn't thought it through at all, but he's not about to contradict it.

"...I guess." 

Iroh doesn't say anything further for a few minutes. Zuko doesn't dare break the silence, shoulders hunching in growing unease. A tiny drop of blood wells up where he'd picked a little too hard at his nail. 

"Well," Iroh says with the air of someone who's come to a decision, "this has helped me make up my mind on something that has been wearing on me for a while now. I don't think it's healthy for you to be cooped up in here for so many hours with nothing to do." 

Zuko feels something heavy grow in his gut. Whatever Iroh's about to say, it's not going to be something he likes. "Uncle..." 

"I'll give you a choice," Iroh says. "You can get a job working with me at the tea shop, or you can start going to school. Please make a decision before I get home from work tomorrow." 

Like that's a choice at all. "I'll go work at your stupid tea shop." 

His uncle smiles way too cheerfully. "Wonderful! I'll let Liu Xian know. You should be able to start immediately. Be prepared to get up at dawn tomorrow." 

_Great._

\-- 

Tea serving _sucks_. 

Zuko hates it from day one. It's the worst. He can't do anything right, and okay, maybe he's not trying quite as hard as he could be, but in his defense he didn't want this job to begin with. The first time he pours tea he misses the cup completely and it gets everywhere. His depth perception up close like this is shot, and after a few more spills he learns to touch the pot to the edge of the cup before pouring to ensure he's not misjudging the position. It's probably not proper, but whatever. It's not like he's the one serving tea for any of their richer patrons. 

It turns out that the teashop is always busy now. There's almost never a point where they're under half capacity, and a couple times they're even asked to serve tea at events for families who want to seem like they have more money than they actually do. They usually only need two or three people at those events, so Zuko hasn't had to help out. 

And then the Beifongs, the wealthiest family in Gaoling, invite them to serve tea at a party they're hosting. 

They'll need their entire staff to be there to help, Liu Xian says. They have too much to lose if anything goes wrong, Liu Xian says. 

No, you can't skip work the day of the event, Iroh says. _Zuko_ says that he's going to spill tea everywhere and shame the whole establishment, but apparently no one wants to listen to what he has to say. 

The morning and early afternoon leading up to the Beifong's event is, to put it mildly, chaos. Most of the staff is flustered and nerve-wracked, rushing around without accomplishing anything more than adding to the collective anxiety in the room. Zuko crosses his arms tightly across his chest and glares at the ground the whole trip over to the place. 

The courtyard inside the Beifong estate is huge and takes several minutes to walk through. It's beautifully decorated, with huge trimmed bushes and hedges artfully arranged to show off their imported plants and expensive statues. 

In some ways, it’s really not that different from the Fire Palace. It’s got the same ostentatious air about it he used to take for granted, but now it just feels over-the-top.

The main building’s interior is just as expensively decorated as its exterior was. He doesn’t look too closely at it. A few servants and a woman who looks like she might be Poppy Beifong meet them at the entrance, and the shop’s owner immediately bows in respect.

"We thank you for the honor of serving you," Liu Xian. Next to him Iroh bows as well like he's nothing more than a humble servant, not a spirits-blessed prince. These nobles should be bowing before _them_ , not looking down their noses like they're hardly worth their time. 

Zuko grits his teeth and keeps his gaze firmly fixed on the ground, head tilted away to keep his scar away from their judgmental looks. Either they aren't looking very closely or find it distasteful to comment on, because they don't seem to even notice his presence, much less do the typical double-take Zuko gets when people see his face for the first time. 

"We've heard very good things about the tea your establishment serves," a dour-faced woman, likely the household's head servant, says. "I hope you live up to your reputation. Some very important people will be present tonight. It is imperative that everything go smoothly tonight." 

They're all handed sets of robes to put on so they all meet whatever standards the Beifongs have for their servants. Zuko scowls as he stares down at the rich but plain fabric, perfectly designed to accentuate a veneer of wealth while still clearly designating them as hired help. 

Zuko moves to leave the room to change when a hand suddenly grabs his chin and tilts his head up, forcing him to meet the woman's critical gaze. He jerks back from the touch, heart hammering in an uneven staccato. 

"Don't touch me," he snarls, voice cracking mid-sentence. The woman's look sharpens in disapproval, studying his scar like it's personally offended her. 

He needs to keep his mouth shut. He has to keep himself under control, because this isn't for him, he's doing this for Iroh, and he's already screwed up his uncle's life enough without wrecking his dream job, and that's what ruining this evening would do. This family could ruin the shop's reputation completely. 

The logical part of his mind understands this. He was fine less than a minute ago. But now he's sweating too much for it to just be the temperature in the room. Every sense is on high alert, hands flexing as he scouts the room for the fastest way out. 

Where's Iroh? Why isn't he here? He shouldn't have left yet and left Zuko behind with these people who are standing too close and the phantom touch on his chin is burning him, burning him like the last time someone grabbed his face - 

There's someone new standing in front of him now, a man wearing clothes that scream wealth and status. The woman is murmuring something to him in a deferential tone, though Zuko can't quite make it out through the ringing in his ear and the buzzing in his mind. His nose crinkles in distaste as he looks Zuko up and down, like he's eyeing a particularly unpleasant bug. 

"You're one of Liu Xian's servers?" 

Zuko nods tightly, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from spitting out an angry retort. He already has an idea of where this conversation is about to go. 

"Well, that just won't do," the man says. His voice adopts a hollow tone of sympathy, like he actually feels bad. "I do not mean to be cruel, boy. We simply cannot have someone with such an unsightly scar serving our guests tonight. It would be far too distracting and uncomfortable for them. I'm sure you understand." 

Yeah. Zuko understands. His father wouldn't have allowed a server with a face like Zuko's into the same room as him either, much less let him serve tea for important guests. He should have just skipped work no matter how disappointed it would have made Iroh look. 

He's an idiot for thinking he could escape notice. 

"You can help in the kitchens if you'd still like to get paid for the evening," the man adds. He looks so self-satisfied. _Look, I helped the pitiful little creature_ , his expression says. He must think he's such a kind person for offering to pay Zuko what will probably only amount to a few copper coins after insulting his appearance to his face. He's treating him like a charity case. 

"Aren't you going to thank Master Lao for his generosity?" the woman prompts when Zuko doesn't immediately prostrate himself in thanks, or whatever overly thankful response they're expecting out of him. 

As if he's going to just bow down and let them treat him like trash. The overwhelming need to escape has died down; now he's just pissed. His qi roils under his skin and threatens to burst out in a stream of fire. "Thank you for the offer," Zuko grits out. He's sure they can tell he's lying from a mile away, but he's past the point of caring. "But no thanks. Tell my uncle I'm not feeling well. I'm leaving." 

He doesn't give them a chance to respond or call an escort to remove him from the property. He shoves the robes at the servant and storms out into the evening alone. 

The fresh outside air helps clear his head a little, letting the guilt start creeping back in. Iroh's going to spend his evening worrying about him now instead of enjoying the night. He might even choose to leave the event completely, because that's the type of man he is. He cares about Zuko, and all Zuko ever does to repay him is ruin everything. 

Every. Time. 

He slows, coming to a stop before he reaches the ornate entrance to the courtyard. Maybe he shouldn't leave quite yet. If Iroh decides to come out looking for him, Zuko could tell him everything's fine, that he can go back in and enjoy himself without worrying. 

He ducks behind a large hedge to stay out of sight of anyone walking down the main path, where he can still keep an eye on the servant's door just in case his uncle comes out. 

A few minutes pass. He tries to focus his buzzing nerves by tugging out blades of grass one by one, breathing in the earthy scent. Calm, controlled, like Iroh's tried to teach him countless evenings. It's not really helping. Zuko sucks at meditating. 

He peers around the branches of the hedge. A few wealthy-looking people are being escorted inside, the gates at the front of the courtyard closed and what he's guessing are guards stationed near it. They'd probably be pissed if he tried to leave now and caused a scene in front of the guests. There's no one close by enough to notice if he runs through a few katas, especially if he moves a little further into the garden further from the pathway. The physical activity always helps relieve some of the excess energy he gets after one of his "episodes." 

Breathe. Release. He slides into the first kata of a set he knows by heart, letting his instincts take control instead of his mind. Eyes closed, to let himself feel the kinetic flow of his body in relation to himself, without getting distracted by the parts he can't see anymore. The movements aren't perfect. The damage to his right ear has shifted his sense of balance in a way he's still learning to compensate for. His qi is still agitated from earlier, but he turns his focus inwards and visualizes it running through his veins, letting the katas release the energy without flames. The world slowly starts to settle around him. 

"Are you an earthbender?" A young child's voice breaks through his focus and he startles. It had sounded distant, but as he whirls around he startles again when there's a girl standing only a few feet away on his deaf side. She's purposely not looking at his face, and a fresh wave of shame washes over him. The equilibrium he'd started to restore through the exercise vanishes. 

"Do I look like an earthbender to you?" he hisses, offended by the insinuation. He's _not_ Earth Nation, no matter how much he pretends he is to avoid being caught. He twists his head to get a better look at his surroundings. It doesn't look like there's anyone else here, but paranoia is throttling his qi flow again and he has to be _sure_. He doesn't want to be caught off guard again. 

She doesn't seem thrown by his tone at all. "I don't know, _do_ you look like one?" she throws back, raising an eyebrow like that cryptic sentence is supposed to make sense. 

Zuko can't help but bristle. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'm _blind_ , dumbass," she says caustically, gesturing pointedly at her eyes. 

He pauses, caught off guard by the admission. Sure enough, her eyes are cloudy and unfocused, looking near him but not directly at him. What he'd interpreted as a deliberate attempt to avoid looking at his scar was just the gaze of someone who literally couldn't see it. 

And now that he's looking more closely at her, he's realizing that he probably just snarled at one of the children of those rich families. Her clothes scream of wealth and status, layered in carefully pressed silks and intricate embroidery. Her hair is braided with flowers in an elaborate style that must have taken ages to put together. She can't be more than ten years old at the most, yet her face has been painted with more makeup than he sees on most grown women. She looks more like a doll than a person. 

Spirits. He'll have to hope that her blindness means she doesn't know he's from the teahouse, or he just screwed things up for the place anyway. 

"I didn't mean to snap at you," he says, in what's probably the weakest attempt to save face ever. "Are you lost? Uh, do you need any help getting back to the house? I could call someone if you want me to..." 

The girl wrinkles her nose. "Don't you dare call someone over here. It took me forever to slip my jailer. I don't want them to find me yet." 

Zuko gawks at her. "Your _jailer?_ " 

"Sorry, I meant my nanny." She snorts and waves a hand dismissively. "Same difference, really. Everyone treats me like I'm helpless, but I can find my way around without anyone's help. I'm blind, not stupid. My name's Toph, by the way." 

"I'm Lee," Zuko says, because he's crap at coming up with fake names on the spot. At least his Earth Kingdom name was insanely common - there's no way he could be identified from that alone. It's not like she can see his scar. 

"Right," she says, dragging the word out like she doesn't believe him. She doesn't call him out on the lie, though. "So, _Lee_ , if you're not an earthbender then you must be some kind of martial artist, right? You seemed pretty good at it, too. I've never seen someone with stances like yours." 

"You've never seen anyone do any stances at all," Zuko grumbles without thinking. 

An expression of sheer shock crosses her face. "Did you just make a joke about my blindness?" she demands. 

He cringes. Spirits above, he not only crossed the line but managed to trample it along the way with the finesse of a raging komodo rhino. He should have left immediately, he shouldn't have hung around here, and he definitely shouldn't have started talking to her after he was discovered. 

"I - " 

She guffaws like he just said the funniest thing she's ever heard. "Oma and Shu, I can't believe you just said that. I _like_ you - you've got guts." 

"You're not upset?" He must look like a fool, standing here gaping at a child because she found his insensitivity funny. 

"Everyone walks on tiptoes around me. It gets really annoying after a while," she says. "Besides, I'm not really _blind_ in the way people think I am. I'm an earthbender - I use vibrations in the earth around me to 'see.' That's how I knew you were here and what you were doing." 

"That's pretty neat," he offers tentatively. He's never heard of someone using bending to replace a sense like sight. Can any of the other elements do stuff like that? Air might have been able to, back when there were still airbenders around, and underwater waterbenders would have a pretty obvious advantage, but Zuko can't think of any way fire could take the place of a sense. Fire is just aggressive. Good for war and not much else. 

"Yeah, it's pretty cool. I'm probably the strongest earthbender you'll ever meet, just so you know. How about a spar?" 

He balks immediately. "Are you crazy?! No way!" 

"Come on, it would be fun! I've been wanting to practice with someone who's got a spine." 

"No." 

"Please?" She scrunches up her face and wobbles her lower lip, eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

If he hadn't grown up with a younger sister who pulled the same kicked-puppy trick, Zuko might have actually felt bad. The fact that she's not even looking in his direction makes it even less effective. " _No._ " 

The expression melts away from her face and she frowns, clearly put-out. "Why not? And you better not say it's because I'm blind. I can take care of myself. I bet you wouldn't even be able to land a hit on me."

"I don't want to, that's why," Zuko says. This girl has no idea who she's asking. "Go get your earthbending teacher to spar with you if you want to fight so bad." 

"All my teacher lets me do is breathing exercises and basic forms. And by basic forms, I mean literally just standing there with your arms out moving pebbles. Come on, I wanna do something interesting for once." 

Sounds like a pretty useless teacher, if Toph is as good at earthbending as she claims to be. He remains unmoved. 

"It's still a no." 

"Come _on_. Fine, what if I do something for you first? If there's something you want, I bet I can get it for you," she bargains. "My parents give me pretty much whatever I want." 

"Fine. If you can get me a pair of dao swords, I'll spar with you," Zuko says, rolling his eyes. "And I mean _real_ swords, not cheap toys or ones made out of wood or something." 

She frowns. "There's no way they'll let me buy weapons. They think I'm too 'fragile' for things like that." 

Too fucking bad. He didn't want to spar anyway. She'll probably give up as soon as things get challenging, and he'll be off scot free. "Oh yeah? Well, I'm sure you'll figure something out," he says. "That is, if you're really serious about learning." 

She crosses her arms, chin jutting out defiantly. "You're on. I'll bring you the best pair of dao you've seen in your _life_." 

Zuko snorts. "Good luck with that." 

"Yeah, laugh while you still can," she says. "I never lose a dare." 

\-- 

That night, Zuko watches Iroh make a pot of tea - as if they hadn't had too much tea already today - and idly traces the whorls in their wood table. His emotions feel jumbled, uncertain, and there's an uncomfortable pang of hurt at the thought that maybe he wasn't as important to his uncle as he'd thought he was. It's unreasonable. He would have felt guilty if Iroh _had_ left to find him, so he should be happy right now that Iroh hadn't come out until the event was well over. 

His uncle, as always, seems to immediately sense that something is wrong. He sets a cup in front of Zuko and settles across from him with a cup of his own. 

"I'm sick of tea," Zuko mutters, pushing the cup away and dropping his head onto the table. 

"Try to drink some of anyway," Iroh suggests. "Chrysanthemum tea will help to calm your mind after such an exciting day. Speaking of which, I missed you during the event." 

Zuko scowls. "They didn't want me there. They said my scar was _unsightly_." 

Iroh sighs wearily. "One of the servants informed me. I apologize, nephew. I had not fully considered the level of intolerance some in high society may show towards something outside of your control." 

"I thought you might leave to track me down," Zuko admits, peering up over his arms. He doesn't know what response he's looking for, really. An apology doesn't feel right. His uncle doesn't have anything to apologize for. But his stomach churns at the thought of rejection. That maybe he's just a convenient stand-in for Lu Ten, someone Iroh will pay attention to when it suits him and easy to write off once he gets tired of Zuko. 

"I was going to," Iroh says. He looks sad, for some reason. "But I saw you were speaking with a young lady out in the garden and I did not think my presence was needed. Was I mistaken? Did you have a nice time, despite the circumstances?" 

The relief coursing through him at the knowledge that Iroh hadn't just ignored his disappearance releases some of the tension in his muscles he hadn't even realized was there. Zuko shrugs, not really wanting to answer. It feels weird to admit he _might_ have, just a little bit, liked talking to Toph. Barely. "It wasn't awful, I guess." 

Iroh smiles. "Maybe you'll have a chance to meet her again someday." 

"I doubt it." But if he did, it probably wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Not that he's going to admit it. 


	2. Chapter 2

Iroh must have explained what happened to Liu Xian, because he never says anything about Zuko's disappearance that day at the Beifong's. He also never asks Zuko to assist at any events for the upper class again. It's probably for the best.

Days blur into weeks. He gets up, pours tea, ignores stares, meditates in the evening light with Iroh and goes to bed. On his days off he hides in his room and meditates or, when the weather's sunny, ventures out into the nearby forest to practice forms and breathing exercises. He doesn't really have a good reason to keep up with his training, not anymore. He hasn't tried to bend since his last disastrous attempt anyway, but he tells himself it's just in case. One of these days he'll try again. Outside, this time.

Iroh send him out to shop for a few necessities one day. He groans and huffs about it but does it anyway. The militia is more active than normal, stopping random citizens and asking not-so-friendly questions that Zuko's not about to get close enough to hear. He ducks his head, dumps some coins on the merchant's desk for his items, and leaves as quickly as he can.

\--

Breathe.

In, out.

Inhale. Exhale. Slow, deep breaths to center his qi.

He can do this. He's done it a thousand times before. Zuko's never been good at firebending, but he can't let himself stay like this, not even able to make as much flame as a toddler without having a panic attack. His scar aches, but that's nothing new. He won't let it control him.

Energy flows to his fingertips and he cracks open his eyes --

He jerks his hand back and away before he even registers what he's doing.

The tiny flame sputters out.

He doesn't try to light another one.

\--

Close to a month passes before he sees Toph again. She saunters into the teahouse like she's not wildly out of place in her expensive clothing and young age, beelines towards him and raises a hand in greeting.

"Yo," she says, as if this is completely normal.

"What are you doing here?" he hisses, glancing over his shoulder. "Get out of here before someone recognizes you!"

"You know, most people at least say hello before they start telling people to leave," she says. Her gaze doesn't meet his, and even though he knows why it's still a little disconcerting. "Don't you want to see what I got?"

Zuko wracks his brain, trying to remember why she'd come all the way out to the teahouse just to show a stranger she'd met _once_ something. Whatever, it doesn't matter. And now Iroh's coming over here, because of _course_ his uncle would notice Zuko talking to her.

"Is that a friend of yours, Zuko?" Iroh asks. He looks way too happy about this.

"No," Zuko snaps. He does _not_ want to deal with this right now. He'll already be hearing it enough tonight, about how happy he is that Zuko's finally making friends and socializing and whatever other crap he's been pressuring Zuko to do ever since they settled down here.

He grabs Toph's arm and drags her out of the building before she or Iroh can respond. She doesn't fight him, but when he doesn't immediately let go once they're outside, she plants a foot on the ground and jerks herself out of his grip at the same moment he trips on a rock that he could have sworn wasn't there earlier.

"I can walk on my own," she says, planting a hand on her hip. "Don't manhandle me."

"Fine. Then go walk yourself home on your own. You can't be here," Zuko says.

"Why the hell not? It's a public teahouse, and it's not even yours! You just work there! Why can't I come in?"

"What if you get recognized? You told me yourself that your parents don't let you go out without an escort, and I sure don't see one hanging around right now. You could get us all in trouble!"

"No one outside of my family, our servants and some of my parents' friends even know I exist," Toph says. "No one's going to recognize me."

That's... really depressing, actually. What, do they keep her locked in the basement and only bring her out like a prop when they have parties? That doesn't seem normal - even he knows that, and his own upbringing was about as far from normal as it gets. At least it means he won't have to worry about getting reported for kidnapping the Beifong's blind daughter or something like that, but still. He draws enough attention on his own without a rich girl making them stand out even more.

"Besides," Toph adds, "I snuck out while some people were over for trade negotiations. They won't even notice I'm gone for another couple hours, easy. And if they do notice, I'll just say I got lost in the gardens or something. They always fall for it."

Her parents sound like gullible fools if they'd believe a lie as blatant as that. But as long as Zuko's not going to be the one in trouble, it doesn't really matter to him anyway. "Why are you here, anyway? Don't tell me you just traipsed into town for a little pleasure trip or something."

She grabs the package on her back and thrusts it into his hands. "Take a look."

He narrows his eye, turning the package over in his hands like something's about to jump out of it. It's long, thin and lumpy, poorly wrapped in some kind of brown paper. He has a feeling he knows what it is, and an uncomfortable mix of anticipation and nerves churns in his stomach.

"Well? Aren't you going to open it?" She rocks on her heels expectantly.

"I'm getting to it," he snaps. He carefully unwraps one end and pulls out the twin dao swords she'd promised the last time they'd met. The sheath is dark, soft leather, the edges and tip gold-tipped but relatively simple. The swords themselves are made of unblemished steel, masterfully curved and balanced. The razor-sharp edges glint in the light, unbroken by any sort of scratch. Dark wood handles are wrapped in a deep green cord to improve their user's grip and the hilts are inlaid with blended gold carefully molded into a detailed badgermole design. They look brand new. And insanely expensive.

"Where did you get these?" Zuko breathes. He's no sword expert, but the quality of these doesn't seem far off from what he'd trained with back in the palace. There's no way these aren't custom-made.

"Stole them," Toph says proudly, as if it's a great accomplishment.

He shoves the swords back into their sheath and the paper packaging. "From who?" he hisses, eyes darting around to make sure no one is watching them.

"Some noble family that visited us a couple weeks ago," she says. " _Relax_. I can feel your heartbeat going nuts right now. They left town a few days ago. We're not gonna get caught, I promise."

She can hear his _heart?_ "Are you crazy? They're going to come back when they realize their swords were stolen!" 

"Oh, they knew they were stolen after just a few hours," she says. She looks way too pleased with herself over this. "They searched everywhere, even tore apart a few places in town, but there was no way they were gonna find them where I hid them. They gave up and left after a week without any leads. Of course, they never even considered I might have taken them. No one _ever_ suspects the blind girl."

"Well, I'm the _first_ person people tend to suspect," Zuko snaps. The swords feel hot in his hands and he keeps scanning the crowd, half expecting someone to point at him and accuse him of theft right here and now.

She shrugs, not looking at all concerned about that, the jerk. "You'll figure something out. I guess I can help you hide them again if you need me to. But we can talk about that later. Right now it's your turn to hold up your end of the bargain."

He stares at Toph, mind going blank for a moment before he remembers. This whole thing had started because he'd wanted her to stop bugging him about fighting. He has no interest in fighting a bender, especially when there's no way he can use his own bending, but he doubts she's going to give him much of a choice at this point.

"If I got you a pair of dao swords, you said you'd spar with me. You better not be getting second thoughts. You _promised_."

Oh. Right.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go out and get them,” he says petulantly.

She crosses her arms. “Sucks to be you. I told you I never lose a dare, it’s your own fault that you didn’t believe me.”

She’s right. He hadn’t thought she’d actually go to those lengths to get what she wanted. Most rich kids he’d known back in the Fire Nation would give up as soon as they realized something was going to pose a challenge. "How old even are you?"

"I'm nine and a half."

He splutters. That was even younger than he'd thought. "I'm not gonna fight a nine-year-old!"

"Good thing I'm not nine, I'm nine and a _half_ ," she stresses. "Come on, tough guy. Show some guts and let me see what you're made of."

“What, _here_? We’re still in the middle of town! We’ll get arrested for causing a public disturbance!”

Toph snorts. “No, not here, _duh_. There's this spot in the woods a few minutes away that dips into the mountain, kind of like a mini arena. It'll be perfect."

"I still have work," Zuko argues weakly. "I can't just leave."

"Okay, fine. I'll wait for you here. But you have to promise you'll come back as soon as you're done."

Great. If she's anything like Azula or her friends, Toph's not going to back down until he agrees. "Fine. I'll come in a few hours, and then we're even. And you have to keep the dao with you until then, or they'll ask me questions that I can't answer. Deal?"

She grins. "Deal."

\--

Zuko scowls through the rest of his shift. Iroh, on the other hand, won't stop smiling. When the tea shop closes and Zuko moves to help with the end-of-day cleanup like he usually does, Iroh waves him off with a knowing look.

Toph is still waiting there like she said she would be, and she brightens as he approaches. He glares halfheartedly, but she either ignores him or her earthbending senses aren't so amazing that she can tell what his face is doing. It's probably for the best - he feels kind of stupid for glaring at a blind girl to begin with.

She hands him the package of dao and leads the way to the clearing she'd mentioned. It's a small meadow grove, patches of flowers and long grass broken up by recently upturned dirt and rocks.

"So how were you thinking we'd do this?" Zuko asks, resigned.

She suddenly looks way less confident than she had a second ago. "I dunno. I've never sparred with anyone before. I figured you'd know what to do."

Spirits. He's only ever sparred with master swordsmen or other firebenders. Are there special rules for earthbenders? How do they even do spars in the Earth Kingdom? Are they supposed to do a show of respect before or afterwards, or do they not do that here at all? He only knows the Fire Nation salute for spars, and he's pretty sure that wouldn't go over too well here.

"Don't aim for the face, neck or groin," Zuko says slowly, wracking his brain to remember all the basic rules he'd used in the past. "Don't go at full power or we might actually hurt each other, especially since we've never done this before, and that's not the point behind sparring. The fight ends as soon as one of us has been on the ground for... uh, three seconds should be enough. is If either of us want to stop at any point for any reason, say 'yield' and we both have to stop right away. Oh, and no bending."

"What? But practicing my earthbending was half the point," she says, disappointed.

"It's not a fair match if only one of us can bend," he points out. And he's definitely not admitting that he's a bender himself.

"I don't know how to fight with martial arts. I’m also literally blind without my bending. That’s still unfair."

Right.

"Then you can use earthbending on the ground itself, like... moving it to knock me off balance and stuff."

She nods, looking marginally more satisfied. "Basically, as long as I'm not chucking rocks at you or using earth to pin you down then it's fine?"

He nods, then grimaces. "I just nodded. As long as you're not actively bending at me then it's fine."

"Good enough for me. Let's start," Toph says. She digs her toes into the ground, head tilting slightly. She doesn't move to strike. Waiting. Listening.

Zuko circles her slowly, not moving in just yet, careful to keep his footsteps silent. He watches the way her head turns as if following his movements, though he's pretty sure it doesn't make any difference to her whether or not she's facing him. If her senses are as acute as she’s been hinting, it probably doesn’t matter how quiet he is.

How is he supposed to do this? What if he strikes at her and she doesn't sense him coming? He doesn't want to be _that guy_ who decked a kid over a head shorter than him.

She must be tired of waiting for him, because she slams a heel into the ground and a slab of earth swings up under his feet without warning. He leaps away, instantly unbalanced as the rock he lands on starts moving. She senses his location and twists the ground under him the moment his feet touch it.

Toph manipulates the earth like it’s an extension of herself. It moves and changes shape with a sweep of her hand, switching direction mid-strike like it’s more liquid than solid rock. She was _good_. Talented enough that it makes her earthbending teacher seem even more incompetent, if he really thinks she can’t handle anything more than basic forms.

Her downfall is the repetitiveness in her moves. It’s obvious very quickly that she’s never actually fought against someone before, and within a couple minutes Zuko’s figured out the patterns to most of her techniques. She’s good at reacting quickly, but her attacks always pause when he’s in the air until she knows where he is again.

The next time a slab of earth raises like a trapdoor under him, he’s ready. He uses its momentum to launch himself in the air towards her. Without a way to see his location, she doesn’t brace herself against his attack in time. Toph hits the ground with a grunt and lies there for a moment, clearly stunned.

“I win,” he says as soon as three seconds pass. He’s out of breath as he reaches out a hand to help her up.

She ignores it and pushes herself up to her feet, and he awkwardly retracts his hand. Her brow is furrowed, lips turned downward as she catches her breath. “That was just a warmup,” she says. “I’ll beat you in the real thing.”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s still my win. You’re already pretty good, just inexperienced when it comes to fighting against others. I used to spar a lot when I was younger, so I already have some experience. Look for ways to make your moves less predictable, and if you’re able to figure out a way to guess a person’s trajectory after they leave the ground, you’ll really gain an edge.”

Toph looks slightly mollified by this answer, but it’s obvious she was disappointed by the loss. “Can we try again?”

“Sure.”

He wins the next round too, and the one after that. Toph looks more and more frustrated with every loss, and he kind of feels bad. He probably weighs around 20 kilograms more than her, is more than a head taller and has a longer reach, not to mention his experience with this type of fight. She’s learning fast and every win is harder than the last, but she’s struggling to accurately predict where he’s moving when he’s not touching the ground. Besides, he’s pretty sure she would be even more upset if she thought he was purposely letting her win.

In the fifth round, she finally predicts where he’s going to be before he lands. She dips the earth into a steep drop that sends him tumbling and he slams into the ground hard. He wheezes, the breath knocked out of him, and doesn’t recover quickly enough.

“That’s three seconds!” Toph crows. Her hair is falling out of her bun around her face and she grins, ignoring her split lip. “I beat you!”

“Nice job,” he groans, picking himself up off the ground and brushing some of the dirt off his shirt. “I knew you’d get it.”

“Hell yeah, I got it. Good luck ever beating me again.”

“You’re on.” 

\--

Toph had been the one to suggest setting up regular meetings, but to be honest, Zuko doesn't really expect her to show up after the first couple. He has no idea how to talk to other kids that aren't his sister and her friends (and if he's being real, he had no idea how to talk to them, either). He's prone to snarling at the smallest provocation. He has no propriety despite their perceived social class difference. He regularly forgets she's blind and has to awkwardly try to narrate his nonverbal responses when she just stares blankly waiting for him to say something. The one time Iroh sends him with a pot of tea to share, he accidentally knocks it over and dumps it all over her lap. He's not the type of kid most others would be interested in hanging out with. He's a stick in the mud.

Yet Toph doesn't seem to care at all. It could be that she's just taking pity on him, or that she's desperate enough for a sparring partner that she'll take anything she can get. Maybe it's because she's just as weird as he is.

He realizes pretty quickly that they're both social pariahs. They don't go into town together often, but on the occasions that they do his skin prickles with unwanted attention. People alternate between staring and not wanting to look at Zuko's scar, and as soon as they notice Toph's blindness they do the same thing to her. Pity and discomfort are the predominate reactions to either of them when they're in the area. It's hard to tell if she notices. He makes sure to glare extra hard when they're together to ward off the ones who're more blatant about their rubbernecking, just in case.

Weekly meetings become bi-weekly meetings. He starts losing more and more spars until their running total is roughly equal. She agrees he can use his swords, and he agrees she can start using earth as projectiles. At first it's just rocks no bigger than a closed fist, then no bigger than a head, then entire slabs if it's light contact or only under his feet. He learns to utilize the trees around them to avoid her senses and gain an edge of surprise, and tapes the swords so the edges aren't so sharp if he accidentally gets a little too close with them.

Soon it's not just the sparring, and starts becoming conversations too. Trying out new things. Testing the limits of Toph's senses with games of hide and seek, where he takes to the trees and learns how to move without setting off her radar. She must have noticed he has vision and hearing problems on his left side, because she starts making a point of only standing on his right and doesn't throw quite as many rocks at him in his blind spot.

He thinks maybe, just maybe, he might consider her a friend.

\--

"So if your earthbending teacher doesn't teach you anything, where did you learn to fight?" Zuko asks.

"Badgermoles," Toph says, as if that's a normal and acceptable answer to his question. He's gonna need some clarification on that one.

"Badgermoles," he repeats.

"That's what I just said. What, are you deaf?"

"Right, uh. Is that, like, the nickname of some legendary teacher or something...?"

"No, I'm talking about the animal. Actual badgermoles."

She has to be messing with him. "...Right. I see."

"You do know they're the source of earthbending, right? That's, like, Earth Kingdom 101. What's so hard to believe about me going back to the source to learn?"

And the world makes sense again. The Fire Nation had taught them that firebending came from the dragons, but they'd never covered other bending sources and he'd never even thought to ask. Zuko suddenly feels a bit foolish. "I didn't know the badgermoles still taught people," he deflects.

"I don't think they usually do," she says with a shrug. "But I ran away from home a few years ago and they found me in a cave. They're blind, like me. Earthbending is their way of interacting with the world. Human teachers tend to focus on fighting with bending, especially with the war going on, but they showed me how to use my earthbending as an extension of my senses instead. I can kick ass too, but that's just a bonus."

"That's amazing," he breathes. Her declaration that she's going to be the world's best earthbender doesn't seem so implausible anymore. Even if she's still only nine.

"Badgermoles _are_ pretty awesome," Toph says smugly. "You wanna meet them sometime?"

"No thanks," he says with a grimace. He saw a badgermole one time from a distance, and those things are massive. Big enough that they'd probably accidentally step on him and crush him.

She doesn't seem too bothered by his rejection. "If you say so. I'll get you to come meet them eventually, though, mark my words. What about you? Where did you learn how to fight?"

Zuko hesitates. Telling her he had personal tutors would be way too suspicious and skating close to dangerous territory. Almost all of his training was centered around firebending, and that's not exactly something he can say unless he wants to get them killed. "I learned how to swordfight with one of my uncle's friends," he says carefully. "He owed my uncle some favors and agreed to train me."

It’s the truth when it comes down to it. Piandao had said as much when he took Zuko in as a student, though not unkindly. He was an honest man, the type who wasn’t going to claim he was teaching Zuko because he’d earned it and certainly wouldn’t stoke his ego just because he was the son of the Fire Lord. He was also the type of man who gave him a bag of fire flakes after that statement made a nine-year-old Zuko cry and told him he still had potential, no matter the motivations behind his tutelage.

"That's neat. I didn't know we had a master swordsman in town, I woulda figured he'd be off in the war. You think he'd teach me if I asked really nicely?"

“Probably not,” Zuko says. “He was super picky with who he’d take on as a student. He doesn’t live in Gaoling anyway, so it’s pointless to wonder.”

“Damn,” she sighs, sprawling melodramatically over a patch of dirt. “I could’ve been the world’s first blind, swordfighting earthbender. How cool would that have been?”

Zuko fidgets. Opens his mouth to say something, closes it again, and kicks a pebble before finally making up his mind. “I could probably show you a thing or two. If… if you want.”

She perks up. “Really?”

“I’m nowhere near as good as my teacher was or anything,” Zuko says quickly. “But I know the basics.”

“Dude. _Hell_ yes. Please give me the sharp metal sticks and teach me how to swing them at my adversaries.”

Wait, no. This was a horrible idea.

\--

"You need to get new clothes," Zuko says one day, flopping backwards onto the grass as he catches his breath from their sparring session. It's something that's been on his mind for a while, though he hadn't brought it up before. Honestly, he thought she'd lose interest in him after maybe a month and this would become a moot point. 

Toph sprawls out nearby and turns her head in his general direction. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"It screams of money. Anyone who looks twice at you can tell that you're rich, and it makes you stand out. You should get some peasant's clothes to blend in better, especially if you're going to be coming by more often." It's hard to know if Zuko's royal background makes her clothing quality more or less obvious, but he's pretty sure even someone without much knowledge of fashion would be able to see it. She'd probably picked some of her plainest outfits to wear when sneaking out, but even those still had fine embroidery and were made of fabric definitely not common in the general populace.

She mulls this over, chewing her lip in thought. "You know, that's probably the smartest thing you've ever said to me."

"What?!" Zuko squawks as he jerks up into a sitting position.

"It can't be too cheap, or it might just fall apart when we're sparring," Toph continues as if he hadn't interjected. "But I'll let you pick it out. If I find out that you picked something ugly or stupid, though, I'll punch your lights out."

The next day, he hands her the dark green tunic and brown shorts he'd picked out for her. It's a far cry from the beautifully embroidered dresses Toph usually wore, and he fingers the cloth nervously as he hands the outfit over for inspection. The cotton is way rougher than silk, but at least it's better than the hemp clothes. He'd tried to pick out the softest cotton he could find to make the transition at least a little easier, because he _gets_ it in a way most wouldn't. He still struggles with the itchiness of the fabric over his skin after a lifetime of the most expensive fabrics money could buy and he wonders if it might be even worse for her, given her sense of touch is probably amplified by her blindness.

She runs her hands over the clothing, head tilted in concentration. For a moment he thinks she's going to hate it, or get mad that he'd picked out something unisex instead of something more feminine, but she just grins. "You really put some thought into this, didn't you? I didn't know you cared so much."

He splutters, feeling strangely called-out. "No way! I just grabbed the first thing I saw. I didn't put any thought into it at all."

"I can tell you're lying," she sings. And promptly punches him.

"Ow! If you knew I was lying, what was that for?!"

"That's how I show _I_ care, dumbass."

\--

Zuko can't sleep. Every cell feels supercharged, what-ifs intruding into his thoughts and refusing to give him a moment of peace no matter how much he tries to shut them out. He curls into himself, hugging his chest against the chill and listening for the telltale sounds indicating Iroh's still awake. He's pathetically grateful for the rice-paper wall hiding him from Iroh, even if he knows Iroh would never judge him.

"That general's plan was wrong, Uncle."

Iroh lets out a slow breath. "Yes, it was."

Zuko picks at his sleeve. Tugs a piece of loose thread until it starts unraveling. Swallows over a hitch in his throat. "Do you think they're dead?"

Iroh doesn't answer for a long while. His breathing stays heavy and even, and Zuko starts to think he's fallen asleep.

"I pray they survived against the odds. I cannot say for certain whether or not any of them did, but I do not want to lie to you, Zuko. The odds that they are still alive are very slim."

Yeah. That's about what Zuko expected.

Doesn't make it any easier to hear it out loud.

\--

Iroh waits until Zuko is elbow-deep in dishwater with more than half of the cutlery still unwashed before he springs the question Zuko had been not-so-subtly avoiding over the last couple months. "So, when will I have the honor of officially meeting the young lady Toph?"

 _How about never?_ Zuko thinks. He scrubs faster.

"You should invite her over for tea one of these days," Iroh suggests. “I promise I’ll do my very best not to embarrass you in front of your friend, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Zuko groans. "You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?"

"I'm not going to force you," his uncle says, way too gently. "I would love to meet her and have a chance to get to know her, but if it bothers you that much I'll leave it be."

Great, now he just feels guilty. He scowls at the dishwater and sighs loudly to make it clear he's _not_ happy about this. "Fine. I'll ask her if she wants to come over."

\--

Zuko means to ask her the next time they meet up. But, well, he's not sure what to say exactly, and he thinks about it too long, and then it just doesn't feel like the right time to ask. By the time he finally brings it up, it's been almost a month.

"My uncle wanted me to ask you if you want to come over for tea sometime," he says haltingly, grimacing. Toph had never questioned why he lived with his uncle instead of his parents, and he can't get the idea that them meeting would change that. That her disinterest in his background would change to fascination or at least create unwanted questions.

He hadn't expected her to jump for joy at the invitation or anything, but he definitely hadn't expected the hesitation written all over her face. "I don't know," she hedges. "What's he like?"

She's looking for something in his reply, he already knows it. Her decision is going to be based off what he says next. Spirits, he hates questions like this, where there's a right answer but there's nothing to tell him what that answer _is_. And what does _he_ want from her? To say yes? No?

He doesn't think fast enough. Her expression grows cold in a way he's never seen before. She isn't looking at him, but he can feel the way her focus has zeroed in on him, so intense he can hardly breathe under it. "Does he hurt you?"

 _What?_ "What?! No!" he yelps. "What made you think that?!"

"Your heartbeat went all crazy when I asked about him," she states. She's still very focused on him, probably trying to determine whether or not he's lying, though she looks slightly more relaxed. "Just so you know, I'll kick his ass into next week if I ever find out he's doing something to you."

"Uncle would never do anything to me," Zuko says, and is thrown slightly off balance by how much he _means_ it. His early months with Iroh had been fraught with uncertainty and suspicion. He hadn't really believed that Iroh could actually care that much without any apparent ulterior motive, not until recently. "He took me in when... when I didn't have anywhere else to go. He talks too much about tea and likes old-people stuff like Pai Sho, but... he's a good person. He's one of the best people I've ever met. I think you'd like him. I know he would like you."

She crosses her arms and tilts her head consideringly. "Will he be weird about me being blind? I don't need another old guy trying to protect me or trying to tell me what to do."

"I don't think he'd be be weird about it," Zuko says. "He likes helping people and he's super polite to everyone, but if you tell him to back off he will."

She shrugs. "I guess I can come over sometime, then."

"Okay, cool." He still isn't sure how he feels about this, but at least he knows it's going to happen. "When works for you?"

"How about now?"

"Now?!" he yelps. 

"Yeah, why not? My parents are at a party tonight and there's no way the servants are going to admit they lost me, so it works out perfectly."

No, it's not perfect at all. He hasn't had any time to mentally prepare himself for this. He's not ready.

"Okay," he says, because he can’t think of a good reason to say no when he had literally just invited her to come over.

And that's how Zuko finds himself back at his apartment, watching the two halves of his social life (as much of one as he has) meet each other for the first time. Iroh is, of course, overjoyed to see her.

“Do you have a preference for tea, if that’s something you enjoy?” he asks, already pulling out their well-worn teapot.

Toph shrugs. “You guys are the experts, so whatever you think would be good. I don’t really know much about tea.”

"Have you ever made tea before?" Iroh asks.

"My parents think I'll spill hot water all over myself if I so much as touch a teapot," Toph scoffs. "Not to mention they think it's beneath our kind."

Iroh seems to find this way funnier than he should. Yeah, laugh it up, old man. It’s not like they can explain the irony to her.

"Teamaking is a craft anyone can learn, if they have a desire to," he says. "Would you like me to teach you?"

She thinks about it for a moment before shrugging. "Sure, why not?"

"Excellent!" Iroh looks delighted and immediately pulls out a multitude of tea packets and ingredients. He starts describing the process in way more detail than necessary while Toph sniffs the various tea leaves and dried flowers.

Zuko sprawls out on the couch while the two work and closes his eyes. The sound washes over him like a calm hum, and like this, scarred side pressed up against the cushions, he can almost pretend that ear's deafness is only temporary.

"Try this," Toph says, suddenly standing right next to him. He cracks open an eye and sees the cup of honey-golden tea she's holding out in his direction, steam gently wafting from the surface.

He pushes himself up into a sitting position and takes the cup, sniffing it with no small amount of hesitation. His own first attempt at making tea had been nothing short of disastrous, even with Iroh's instruction, and no matter how capable Toph proved to be in other areas, this was one he didn't have high hopes for. It's... not bad, though. The jasmine fragrance is maybe just a little too strong, but not undrinkably so. The taste is the same way - it still has the smooth, sweet taste of his uncle's high-quality leaves, just a little too powerful.

"Well? How is it?" she asks.

"Not bad," he replies, draining the rest of the cup and holding it out to her. When she doesn't move to take it, he bites back a grimace. Of course she can't tell he's holding it out, not when she's standing on wooden floors instead of earth. He bumps the cup against her hand to signal that it's there, and she immediately takes it.

"What was wrong with it?"

“Too strong,” he says. “Either use fewer leaves or don’t leave it in as long, or the jasmine smell overpowers it. It’s pretty good for your first time, though.”

“You’re a quick learner,” Iroh adds, smiling proudly at her. “With a little more practice, soon you may be skilled enough to get a job serving tea with us.”

Toph beams at the praise. “My parents would lose their _minds_ if I got a service job. It’d be hilarious. What do you think, Lee? Should I do it?”

“Please don’t,” Zuko says. “We’d probably all get in trouble.It would be pretty funny, though.”

“It’ll be my backup plan, then,” she says with a nod. “If they ever try to arrange a marriage for me or something, I’ll just run away and become a tea server. That’ll show them.”

It would be pretty ironic, too. She’d be the third person in that shop to come from a prestigious background to leave that wealth behind to be an ordinary _tea server_. Not that he can tell her that. “You can take our couch if you do run away,” he offers. “Uncle wouldn’t mind.”

Iroh nods sagely. “You’re welcome here any time. We’d be delighted to have you.”

Her answering smile is as bright as the sun. 

\--

Zuko’s just setting a tray of tea down for some customers when the door slams open, loud enough that almost all the quiet chatter in the shop comes to a halt. Toph glares into the room, unfocused eyes still holding enough venom to warn off anyone from talking to her as she storms in, hooks an arm around Zuko’s with an iron grip, and pulls him back out with her.

He doesn’t fight it and lets her half-lead, half-drag him out of the shop and in the direction of their normal meeting spot. There’s clearly something bothering her, even if she’s not saying anything. Her eyebrows are tightly drawn together, lips pressed into a thin line with jaw clenched. She hadn't even bothered to change into her "peasant" clothing.

"Did something happen?" he asks tentatively, when no explanation seems to be forthcoming. He doesn't miss that she'd chosen to stand on his good side, where he'll be able to hear her clearly.

"My parents happened," she snaps. She doesn't elaborate.

Now that's something he can understand. Shitty parents are something he's intimately familiar with. His father had made sure in the most painful way possible that Zuko would never be able to forget his heritage. Every time he looks in the mirror there's a split second where he sees the Fire Lord looking back at him. "Do... do you want to talk about it or anything?"

"No," Toph says. A few seconds of silence pass. "They said I can't go out into the garden unsupervised anymore. They're 'worried for my safety' because I keep disappearing, and one of the servants noticed I had a bruise on my shoulder and tattled to them about it so now they think I'm in danger of hurting myself if I'm not constantly monitored. It's so _stupid_ ," she bursts out, a tiny hitch in her voice. "I can take care of myself and they treat me like I'm gonna die if someone so much as looks at me funny! I'm not made of glass!"

He glances at her, unsure if she just wants to vent or if she's looking for some sort of solution. "Have you ever tried telling them about your earthbending? That you can, y'know, basically see when you're using it?"

"I'm scared they won't like me anymore if I tell them," she says glumly. "They seem to love having someone they can baby and dress up however they like. They like obedience more than anything."

Oh spirits, Zuko is so bad at this _showing sympathy_ thing. He has no idea how to respond to her outburst without getting dangerously close to revealing things about himself that he does _not_ want to share. "I'm sorry," he settles on after a delay that lasts way too long. He's not going to question how she got out here if she's supposed to be monitored right now.

She looks disappointed by that response, shoulders hunching up defensively. "I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity," he says, taken aback. "I... I get it. Well, sort of. My father was... he was kind of the opposite of your parents in what he wanted, but. I wasn't - uh. He didn't really - my sister was - what I mean is, I could never do anything right for him."

It's the understatement of the century. The reality that he’d never been enough for his father has been a bitter one to swallow.

Toph drags an arm across glassier than usual eyes, but at least looks marginally less upset. "That didn't make _any_ sense."

He flushes. "Sorry. I guess what I'm trying to say is... I know what it's like to not be able to meet your parent's expectations."

She's quiet for a moment. "Is that why you live with your uncle now?"

"...That's part of it."

"Oh." She chews on the inside of her cheek and her hand flexes where she's still gripping Zuko's elbow. "Is he where you got your scar from?"

He stiffens, heart suddenly in his throat. "I don't want to talk about that."

"Sorry."

"It's fine." It's not fine. He takes a couple deep breaths and grounds himself in the fact that he's thousands of kilometers away from the Fire Nation and his father. It's been almost a year since it happened - it shouldn't still bother him this much. His fingers ghost over mottled skin, tracing the outline of his scar. "How... how did you even know about it?"

"People talk," she says, almost apologetically.

"...Right." Of course. She'd never brought it up before, so he'd assumed she had no idea he was disfigured. Clearly that was asking too much from the world.

She turns her head in his direction and gives him a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Life's kinda shitty sometimes, huh?"

He huffs out a bitter laugh. "You can say that again."

A year ago, Zuko would have defended his father's actions without question. _Had_ defended them, every time Iroh hinted that he believed Ozai was the one in the wrong. He'd believed his scar was justified and he'd deserved it for the disrespect he'd shown that general and his father. It's hard to accept that maybe his father isn't such a good, perfect person after all.

Truthfully, he doesn't know what to believe anymore. It seems like every day he's learning something new about the world outside the Fire Nation, something conflicting with the history and teachings his tutors had coached him in. He doesn't want to believe the Fire Nation is in the wrong. That his country had started a war for power, not to share their prosperity and technology with the world. That the Air Nomads hadn't had an army, they'd been a peaceful people, and the Fire Nation had killed them all.

Zuko's thoughts over the last few months have started to take on a borderline treasonous edge, one he's not quite ready to examine too closely. He doesn't dare tell Iroh. His uncle may be a relatively peaceful man, may even take Zuko's side over his father's, but would that still be the case if he knew what Zuko was thinking? Maybe. It’s not a scenario he’s quite ready to test yet.

"Do you know what would make it a little less shitty right now?" She doesn't give him a chance to answer before continuing. "Finding some badgermoles to hang out with."

He cracks a smile, one that actually feels halfway genuine. "Fine. I guess we can try to look for some."

\--

Toph was right. Badgermoles _are_ pretty awesome. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not write more for this AU in the future; if you're interested in any possible updates feel free to subscribe to the series! I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments/kudos are always greatly appreciated - let me know what you thought! 
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://aerugonian.tumblr.com/) if you'd like!


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